


The Demon You Know

by BoldlyGoingNowhereFast



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, and a little bit of Freddie Mercury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2720315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast/pseuds/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, Aziraphale rethinks just what Crowley means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Demon You Know

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written for Good Omens in ages, so I decided I'd give it another go. Here's a little one-shot that takes place right after the apocalypse that didn't really happen. Slightly AU.

For Aziraphale, Crowley had always been there, and much like a person who doesn’t put much thought into the presence of their arm, Aziraphale didn’t put much thought into how normal the demon’s company had become.

That is, until the world was ending. Glancing sideways at his companion who was clutching a tire iron like it would actually do any good against the devil himself, Aziraphale had felt a strange sort of tug in his stomach, which at the time he had blamed on the nerves involved with facing the devil himself. Their wingtips brushed, and Aziraphale knew that even if they both ended up dying together, at least it was side-by-side.

Later, when they leaned against each other at the airpark and passed a bottle of wine back and forth, Aziraphale started to think about what this demon really meant to him. After all, when one faces the very likely scenario of losing everything important, one starts to imagine what existence would be like without what’s most important.

And at this point, Aziraphale could not deny that the demon in the dark shades was very important. As a rule, angels were supposed to love all of God’s creations, after all, that was rather the point of angels. But Aziraphale didn’t suddenly have the urge to press his face into the shoulder of all of God’s creations, nor did he find the idea of thoroughly kissing all of God’s creations fascinating. And the only creation he wanted to spend the rest of his existence with was rather separated from God at this point.

Aziraphale had come to the conclusion that Crowley was different, and that maybe there was a difference between the Love that angels were supposed to feel and the love that involved chemicals and joy and perhaps a touch of lust. It should probably have been more alarming to discover such feelings, but Aziraphale had known Crowley as long as he had known the Earth, and somehow, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to worry. Crowley was closer to him than any of the angels were, and he suspected the same was true of Crowley and the other demons. It was only the natural progression of things that Aziraphale had fallen in love with the demon with perhaps more than a spark of goodness in his heart.

“Crowley, dear, my arm is falling asleep.”

Crowley mumbled something sheepishly and shifted his weight off of Aziraphale’s side, and the angel suddenly wished he hadn’t said anything at all. The air was cold where Crowley had been leaning against him.

“What do you suppose’ll happen now?” Crowley asked, passing the bottle back to Aziraphale without bothering to wipe the top. He was staring out somewhere in the distance, but Aziraphale suspected that he wasn’t looking at anything in particular. They were both more than a little exhausted.

“I would assume life goes on,” Aziraphale responded softly.

Crowley shook his head. “I mean, to us. They’re going to come looking for us. We both did exactly what we _weren’t_ supposed to do.”

“I imagine They have more important things to worry about.” Aziraphale took a swig of the wine and passed it back to Crowley, keeping himself from jerking back when their hands brushed. They both had decided wiping the mouth of the bottle wasn’t necessary.

“Yeah, but after all that’s been straightened. We won’t go unpunished. I know I won’t go unpunished.”

Aziraphale knew Crowley was right. After all, they both had had the entirely serious intention of facing off against the Devil himself, and that sort of rebellion doesn’t go unpunished.

And that was the dilemma, wasn’t it? Even though they had stopped the world from ending, they hadn’t necessarily prolonged their own existences. Glancing sideways, Aziraphale could feel a ghost of the pain he would feel losing his demon, and it took his breath away. A strong feeling of loneliness haunted him, and he was glad Crowley couldn’t see his facial expression.

“I haven’t been in trouble with Hell in a long time,” Crowley murmured. “I wonder what new tortures they’ve come up with. They make do pretty well without electricity, you know.”

Aziraphale winced. “Dear, must we talk about that?” A fierce protectiveness came over him, and if this was what it was like to love a demon, Aziraphale wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“Not talking about it doesn’t make it go away.”

If Crowley was right, and they were reaching the end of their existence, he figured he should at least tell Crowley how important he was.

Crowley was peering at him. “You’ve got that look on your face,” he said.

“Look?” Aziraphale asked, his resolve momentarily derailed.

“You always get this look when you’re nervous about saying something, and it usually involves berating me or telling me to leave, or something of the like. Out with it.”

The angel frowned. “No, Crowley. Opposite, actually.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. Aziraphale set the bottle of wine on the ground in front of them and turned to face the demon.

“I love you.”

Crowley seemed rather unmoved at the declaration.

“Or, should I say, I’m _in love_ with you.”

At that, Crowley’s eyes widened behind his shades. He made a few aborted attempts at speech, and then simply continued staring at Aziraphale, whose face had started to feel warm.

“I don’t expect you to return any of it, considering your, ah, demonic tendencies, but I just thought you should know before we’re separated. After all, love is something worth sharing, and you deserve it, demon or not.”

Aziraphale let out a small noise of surprise when Crowley curled a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. The demon’s lips were surprisingly soft, and despite his serpentine nature, when he flicked his tongue across Aziraphale’s lips, it was warm and human. With a soft sigh, Aziraphale grasped onto the lapels of Crowley’s jacket and pulled him closer, until their knees bumped. Crowley’s fingers were in Aziraphale’s curls, and his other hand was still cupping the back of the angel’s neck. Crowley tilted his head and _oh that was wonderful._

They pulled back when they heard a small cough.  An unassuming man with a pair of tongs and a cardboard box was standing in front of them. “I’m very sorry to bother you gents, but there’s meant to be a sword around here somewhere, at least, that’s what it says here, at any rate, and I was wondering…”

Aziraphale blushed and shifted, realizing he had, in fact, been sitting on the sword for the past hour or so. He stood and handed it over, mumbling an apology. After signing the forms the mailman presented and watching as he drove away, Crowley stood and offered his hand.

“Come on, angel, let’s go home.”

Aziraphale took the hand and sat quietly in the passenger side of a stolen Jeep as Crowley drove them back to London, for once obeying the posted speed limits in a way that made Aziraphale wonder what exactly was going through the demon’s mind. The radio played Freddie Mercury softly, but neither of the two supernatural beings were focused on the music.

“You know, angel, as a demon, I’m not really the right shape to… you know.”

Aziraphale stared over at him as he stared out at the road with a sort of concentration he rarely had when driving. “What do you mean?”

Crowley’s shoulders slumped slightly. “We’re not supposed to love, angel. A demon could get in a lot of trouble if they were found out.”

“And angels aren’t supposed to feel lust.” There was a pointed silence.

Crowley did look at him then, his expression unreadable behind his shades. “We’re already buggered, aren’t we, angel?”

“Yes, my dear, we are, but at least we’re buggered _together._ ”

Crowley smiled at the curse on Aziraphale’s tongue and turned back to the road. They fell into a much more comfortable silence after that.

Neither Heaven nor Hell bothered them that night as they discovered yet another amazing thing about the world that they could share together. And though Aziraphale didn’t need to sleep, he found that it was an enjoyable pastime when he had one friendly demon, _his demon_ , sedately curled around him. Neither of them knew what to expect of their futures, but somehow it all seemed much easier to face when they weren’t facing it alone.


End file.
